Getting There
by mixthealphabet
Summary: Before there was Fitzsimmons, there were Fitz and Simmons, and a lot of misunderstandings about their names.


**Chapter 1: Getting There**

_When you walked into the room just then, it's like the sun came out. Oh, I'm an atom in a sea of nothing, looking for another to combine. Maybe we could be the start of something, be together at the start of time._

Jemma Simmons woke up that morning with the sunlight that shone through her open curtains. It took her a moment to stretch and put her thoughts in order, and that was when she realized that she was most probably already late for her first lecture of the day – biophysics, of all things – because there was no way she'd feel that well rested with only three hours of sleep.

Her mind, the girl decided, was a strange little thing. It seemed to trick itself into feeling she'd had a full night's sleep merely because she'd slept one or two hours more than she was supposed to. Fascinating, really.

Snapping out of her thoughts, the girl frantically got up. She tripped over her tangled sheets but managed to keep her balance, running towards the bathroom. Thankfully, her clothes had been separated before she went to bed, and all Jemma had to do was take a shower before hurrying to class.

A great start for her first semester at the academy.

The previous night, she'd been so utterly amazed by a review on the neurochemistry of music that she'd spent most of the hours usually reserved for sleep in pubmed, searching for similar articles.

It was about the findings reported in those papers that she thought as she made her way through the grounds to her favorite coffee shop.

She normally preferred a balanced breakfast and tea, but there was no time, and the caffeine would come in handy.

As she entered the building of the Biophysics Institute, Jemma stuffed a bagel in her mouth and continued to run, barely escaping a collision with a student that came in the opposite direction. She twirled to the side, fumbling to reach the timetable in her pocket while still holding onto her coffee.

"Blimey!" The girl exclaimed as she stepped on someone's foot, crashing into the person and pulling them to the ground with her.

She fell backwards, and the coffee flew from her hand, the hot, heavily sweetened drink spilling across the floor. Her eyes closed on their own, trying to shut off the disastrous situation she'd just caused.

"Are you okay?" Someone asked from behind her with worry and a Scottish accent.

Jemma turned to the stranger, an embarrassed smile on her lips.

"I'm so sorry. I'm just terribly late and I wasn't looking where I was going, not as much as I should have at least." She started to get up, trying to collect the pieces of her bagel, now scattered around in little crumbs. "What a mess I've made. Are you hurt? The coffee –"

"What are you havering about?" The boy chuckled, pulling her up by her forearm. He had blondish curly hair and his cheeks were colored red, lips twisted in something that was almost a grimace, like he wanted to laugh at her, but was too shy to actually do it. "Everything is fine. I need to get to class, though, so I'll be going, if you don't mind."

_He's cute._

This thought startled her, making Jemma shake her head, before reaching for the stranger.

"Just… You are _not_ hurt, correct?" Her expression was of nervousness, eyes eagerly searching for any coffee that could have seeped through his white button-up and burned him. Around them, a cleaning crew was arriving, mops and buckets and discrete glares in Jemma's direction, to which the girl remained oblivious.

"Hm, no, I mean yes, I'm alright." He answered, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "I really should…"

"Oh!" The girl smiled, finally accepting that he was okay. She pointed at the book he'd been holding, suddenly excited. "I see you're taking biophysics, as well! Not my favorite subject, but there are marvelous applications to some of Professor Gilbert's theories, and I couldn't pass off the opportunity!"

Her excitement triggered something in the stranger, because he turned to her more fully, eyes widening with interest.

"Yes!" He gestured in her direction. "I thought I was the only one interested in the neural circuitry as a model for replication, not in the sense of artificial intelligence, but as an inducer or, or…"

"Or as a duplicator of human emotions and diseases! _In silico_ experiments as such would cause a revolution in the neurochemical field." Jemma agreed, reaching into her backpack for the article she'd been reading the previous night. "His model is a hundred years ahead of any existing project, but there are bioengineers arguing that he's ignoring the unpredictability of the human brain! As if a man like him would make this sort of mistake!"

The boy snorted, crossing his arms and leaning towards her.

"Maybe, but what would you propose in order to surpass _that_ obstacle?"

Jemma blinked and stopped her search for the article, taken aback by his proximity. Awareness and embarrassment washed over the stranger's face, and he took a step back, muttering apologies under his breath.

"I don't know yet." She conceded after a moment, expression softening. "But I will. I'm Jemma Simmons, by the way." She smiled awkwardly at him, extending her hand for him to shake.

"Fitz." He shook it, stammering over his response. "Leo Fitz, actually, but I prefer Fitz."

There was a spark of recognition in her eyes, and the girl moved forward, now gripping his hand with her both.

"The engineering prodigy?" She jumped in place, as if her enthusiasm was sipping through her pores and out of her system in every possible way. "It's so nice to finally meet you! The director was right then, he said we would eventually find each other, since we are the youngest students in the entire academy." Jemma chuckled. "This is certainly the most absurd coincidence I've ever experienced."

Fitz smiled at her words, unsure of how to react to her energetic ways.

"You must be the English chemist." He stated, tilting his head to the side. "A genius, I hear."

Much to his surprise, she beamed at him, not sheepish in the least.

"Biochemist, to be specific." She stopped, letting go of his hand, and the smile slipped from her expression. "But we're not being specific. I didn't mean to brag."

The tilt in Fitz lips spoke of warmth, though, and the two laughed.

"We should get in, though. It's this way. Professor Gilbert started the lesson an hour ago, and I think he knows who we are, since the director made such a fuss about our presence here." The boy sighed softly, looking preoccupied.

"Politics." Jemma offered, still smiling brightly as they walked to the classroom.

The auditory was almost crowded, few chairs still unoccupied, and the sound of students talking or writing filled the entire room. The pair was thankful for it, because the creak of the doors was ignored in the midst of it all.

They weren't, however, as successful in their attempt to find seats.

Just as Jemma slid her backpack to the ground, resigning herself to the fact that a first row seat would only make their tardiness even more obvious to the professor, Gilbert turned around. He eyed the two of them with distaste, casting a look down to his watch.

"Fitz, Simmons, nice of you to join us."

* * *

**Yes, this is a multichaptered fic, because I can't handle my FitzSimmons' feelings right now. This is my take on them through the years.**

**The song is Start of Time, by Gabrielle Aplin.**

**I hope you guys enjoy it!**


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